They’d already decided that among themselves, but Coll hadn’t liked losing to begin with. Having it shoved at him all over again wouldn’t gain Francesca any affection. Lord Glendarril stood, all six feet four inches of him coiled and ready for a fight. Moving quickly, Niall climbed to his feet, as well. “Coll said it should be him,” he lied, “so ye’ve nae surprised us, Lady Aldriss, though I doubt ye can find an Englishwoman to match him.”
His jaw clenching, Coll flexed his fingers. “Aye. Ye find me some swooning, untouched lass, then. I reckon we’ll deal as well as ye and Angus MacTaggert did.”
Her cheeks paled a shade or two. “The young lady I’ve selected will make you a fine Viscountess Glendarril, and a better Lady Aldriss when your father does see fit to expire,” she returned, ignoring his other comments. “You’ll meet her tonight at the theater. You may bring one of your brothers; I don’t wish her overset by the three of you all glowering at her.”
“Ye might give me a bloody day to catch my breath before ye bring the axe down on my neck,” Coll snapped.
She sent him a smile that wouldn’t have warmed ice. “There’s no sense in wasting time. What if Eloise and Mr. Harris were to elope? You might lose everything over poor timing.”
Well, this hadn’t gone at all the way Coll had described. Niall would have been amused with the way Francesca had stomped all over him if that wouldn’t have encouraged his oldest brother to punch him. But still, thank God he had at least a small say in finding his own bride, a milquetoast lass like Coll had described, a woman he could bed and then leave behind while he went back to the Highlands and lived as he pleased. “Ye might as well set eyes on her, Coll,” he said aloud.
Coll swiveled his head around. “Niall likes the theater. He’ll join us tonight.”
Niall took a breath. Bloody wonderful. “Och, I’d be delighted,” he lied. Just what he wanted, to spend an evening watching Coll trying to make some weak-willed lass faint from his mere presence. At least, he supposed, if any of the nearby females succumbed as well, he’d have his first chance at finding a weepy, dim-witted one for himself.
Francesca wanted them tied to London, it seemed. The countess likely hadn’t reckoned on them pursuing a set of lasses none of them wanted anything to do with. One visit to London, and perhaps a second one from Coll to make himself an heir, and Aldriss Park funded permanently. Not ideal, but better than whatever Francesca imagined for them.
Chapter Two
“I’m nae wearing that, Oscar.” Niall turned away from the dressing mirror to eye the large, emerald cravat pin nestled in an ornate gold setting. He could swear the figures of mini cherubs frolicked along the rim.
“Yer ma brought it to me especially for ye,” the valet said. “She said it belonged to her da, the old Laird Hornford.”
No doubt Francesca had sent a bauble to Coll and Aiden, as well, and now she waited in the foyer to see which of them would wear her gift. It wasn’t going to be him. “Put it down,” he ordered. “I’ll wear the thistle pin, and naught else. I’m nae some English dandy.”
“Aye,” Oscar said, setting the fancy thing on the table. With a sigh he retrieved the small silver thistle pin Niall generally wore with his dress kilt. “I’d appreciate if ye’d make certain the lady kens that I did as she asked.”
“Dunnae ye fret about what some underhanded Sassenach lass thinks of ye. We’ll nae be here long enough for it to matter.”
“What about the brides ye and Master Aden are supposed to find here? And the one Laird Glendarril’s to wed? Ye have to be here long enough for that.”
Niall frowned at his reflection in the dressing mirror. Coll might still claim it hadn’t been settled yet, but that conversation in the morning room had sounded fairly definite to him. “Only long enough for a wedding. I reckon Da’s been living a fine life in the Highlands without his wife for the past seventeen years. Nae reason we couldnae do the same.” The more he thought about it the more sense it made—marry some Englishwoman about whom he didn’t give a damn in order to save Aldriss, and not have anything else to do with her. That would show Francesca she couldn’t control everything, and especially not her sons.
That was still the worst-case scenario, though, to be used only if he and his brothers couldn’t persuade Lady Aldriss that they weren’t fit for English consumption. She’d yet to see them in public, after all. Perhaps after an evening of uncooperative Highlands lads, she would return to Oswell House and tear up the agreement of her own accord and send them packing back to Scotland.
A soft rap sounded at his door. “Aye?” he called.
He saw her in the dressing mirror’s reflection, a petite, slender sprite with long dark hair piled atop her head, nearly colorless green eyes made even more striking by a deep-emerald evening gown, and a smile that looked hopeful and nervous all at the same time. His heart thumping, Niall climbed to his feet.
“Eloise,” he said, meeting her halfway across the room and pulling her into a sound hug. She was as tiny as Francesca, and even more delicate-seeming.
Her smile deepened. “You couldn’t possibly recognize me,” she said, her cultured English accent surprising him despite the fact that he knew precisely where she’d spent the past seventeen years of her life. She was his sister; she was supposed to be Scottish.
“I have a clear memory of poking ye with a stick so ye’d cry and I could wrangle another biscuit from Mrs. Ross. She’s our cook, and she loved giving ye milk-softened biscuits.”
“I don’t remember that,” she returned, her brow furrowing before it smoothed again. “I do love biscuits quite dearly, though.” The eighteen-year-old tilted her head, taking a closer look at him.
“Do I have a bug on my forehead?” he asked after a minute of her scrutiny.
“What? Oh, heavens no. I … I just met Aden, and he said I look like you.” She took a half-step closer. “I can’t figure him out. Coll said I was a wee bairn and shouldn’t be thinking of marrying anyone for at least ten more years, but Aden just looked at me, said you and I could be twins, and then asked where he could find a good game of faro.”
Niall grinned. “Nae a one of us can figure out Aden. He is fond of cards. Ye’re coming to the theater with us tonight, aye?”
“No. I’d like to, but I have a dinner with Matthew and his parents.” She cleared her throat. “I think Mama wants to give you a few days to become familiar with London before you meet Matthew and everyone.”
That, or Francesca might still be trying to figure out if London was ready for the MacTaggerts. When he returned his attention to Eloise she was still gazing at him. “I wasnae happy to come down here to London,” he said, “but I am happy to have ye back in my life.”
She smiled, tears gathering in her eyes. “I have brothers,” she said, her voice breaking. “I always knew I did, and Mama told me stories about you, but they were always the same stories, of things you did when you were all very young. It was like hearing a tale about someone else’s family.” She stood up on her toes and kissed him on the cheek. “I’m glad you’re here, Niall.”
With that she left the room again. Behind him, Oscar sniffed loudly. “That was damned touching, Master Niall.”
Niall turned back to the dressing table. “Aye, it was. If Da had told us why he resented Francesca all this time, I might’ve written Eloise other than on her birthday. Mayhap I’d have come down to visit her.”
No doubt Angus had been embarrassed to have been put in such a vulnerable position by such a wee woman as Francesca Oswell-MacTaggert, but the family patriarch hadn’t done his sons any favors by keeping that damned piece of paper and its contents a secret from them until the moment he’d learned of Eloise’s betrothal.
If they’d known earlier, they might have had time to hire an English solicitor to find them a way out of this mess. They might have come up with a strategy on their own to get around all of them having to marry Englishwomen, and Coll being forced to wed the one his mother chose for him. They might have married Scottish lasses, and then dared Lady Aldriss to do her worst.
His door swung open again. “Here,” Coll said, and tossed him an apple.